Forgive me father

gay coming of age, priest, older younger, masturbation, sex

A young man’s confessional takes an unexpected turn.

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Forgive me Father

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was six weeks ago and these are my sins.”

“Please continue.”

“I’ve told several lies.”

“What sort of lies?”

Angelo elaborated.

“I told my teacher that I was too sick to do my assignments, when I just couldn’t be bothered. Also, I said I didn’t know who scratched the paint on my mom’s car when it was really me. And I told my best friend I wasn’t allowed to go to his house, but really, I just didn’t want to hang out with him that night.”

“That last one sounds like a lie of kindness, but a lie is still a lie. The others are more serious.”

“And I have been jealous. My little brother got to go out for pizza with his baseball team and I sulked because my parents wouldn’t get pizza in to make up for it.”

“Jealousy can be a problem if it gets out of control. Do you feel that your brother gets a lot of things that you don’t?”

“No, not really Father. I think my folks are pretty fair actually.”

“It’s good that you recognise that.”


The young man’s confession continued for a couple more minutes, as he worked his way up to the sins he ALWAYS had to confess. He tried to tell himself that confessing was just like talking to a robot; impersonal, unreal; just a way to get things off his chest, but this stuff always embarrassed him.


“I also had carnal thoughts,” he said, using the word that the priest had taught him to use.

“What sort of thoughts?”

“Sex stuff,” Angelo admitted.

“I think that’s unavoidable for a young man. Your hormones are raging and your body is desperate for sexual release. What did you do about those thoughts?”

“I… I touched myself Father.”

“You mean you masturbated?”

Angelo was taken aback by the priest’s bluntness.

“Y… yes Father.”

“How often?”

“How often what Father?” the 18-year-old asked, playing for time.

“How often did you masturbate?”

“Umm, I don’t know, once a day. Maybe more.”

“Young man, you know that lying by omission is still lying, and being deliberately vague is not much better, so let’s try again. How many times a day do you masturbate?”

Angelo realised that the priest had switched the question into the present tense. It felt somehow even more personal. He took a deep breath.

“Two or three times a day. At least.”

“You’re obviously a very excitable young man.”

“Yes Father.”

“And is that always to completion?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you always keep going until you squirt?”

“Yes Father. Sometimes twice.”

“Hmmm. I sense that there’s more you have to confess. Continue.”

Angelo was unsettled by Father Patrick’s demeanour and words. It was as though the man could see straight through to his soul. He paused before continuing.

“Yes, Father there is. A couple of weeks ago I walked in on my older brother in the shower. I couldn’t help it, but I automatically looked at his… his privates.”

“That seems quite natural. You’re at the age where comparing yourself against other young men is perfectly normal. I expect he was bigger than you?”

The question came as a surprise.

“Yes Father. But that wasn’t all.”

Father Malone remained quiet, allowing the boy to compose his account.

“He uhhh… he was masturbating.”

“Oh. Well, that was unfortunate. So, when you realised that, I expect you left the room?”

“Well that’s the other problem; no I didn’t, not straight away. He had his eyes shut. I couldn’t help myself. I was just, well, curious, I guess. To see if he did it the same as me I suppose.”


“No, he did it slower. Kind of sexier.”

“That wasn’t quite what I meant. I was asking what you did next.”


Even though Father Malone could not see him, Angelo blushed.

“Well, I watched him for about 20 seconds then I left.”

“It’s good to know that you did eventually leave. So do you have anything else to confess?”

Angelo hesitated for a good 15 seconds.

“Young man?” Father Malone prompted.

“Yes Father. I’m still here. I… I tried it; jerki… masturbating the same way my brother did it.”

“Hmmm, I can see how you might try that. Teenage curiosity is a powerful force. Your brother really should have locked the bathroom door.”

“The lock’s broken.”

“I see. And then what happened?”

“I really enjoyed it. I couldn’t stop doing it. I was doing it all the time; like an hour at a time. Doing it slow, trying to make it last as long as possible.”

“It sounds as if you were really taken by your brother’s technique.”

“Yes. It was the best thing ever. It made the… the endings MUCH stronger.”

“Your orgasms? How so?”

Angelo hesitated. This was a lot more detail than he had intended to reveal.

“They were umm, messier, if you get my meaning. I er, ejaculated more,” he said, struggling to find the right word. “And the feeling was a lot stronger.”

“And what did you think about as you were masturbating?”


“Come on young man, there’s no need to be coy now. We both know you were fantasising while you did it. Who were you fantasising about?”

Angelo was stunned. Father Malone has seen straight through him.

Reluctantly he said, “I was thinking about my brother Father.”

“That’s what I suspected. What were you imagining?”

“I… I… I was imagining he was the one jacking my dick. Oh, sorry Father!” he quickly added, “I mean, touching my penis.”


Malone smiled to himself. This was better than he could have hoped. It was a long time since a teenager had made a truly juicy, graphic sexual confession.

“So, you have been fantasising about being masturbated by your older brother?”

“Yes Father,” Angelo timidly admitted.

“And is that everything?”

Another deep breath.


“What do you mean ‘mostly’?”

“Well, there is one more thing.”

Malone could sense that the young man had saved the biggest till last. They always did.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Well, I, erm, taught my brother how to do it as well.”

“But surely he already knew?”

“Not him; my younger brother.”


“He didn’t want to, but I made him the first few times. He didn’t want me to see him naked, and especially not like that.”


“Then… then I made him suck me.”

Malone’s heart was pounding. This was rapidly turning into an award-winning confession. He was going to replay his secret recording and video to Fathers Geoghan and Greene. They were going to get off on this one for years!

“Just to be clear, I assume that you are referring to your penis. You made your younger brother suck your penis?”

“Yes. Then we sucked each other at the same time. A lot.”

“You said he didn’t want to at first. Did that change?”

“Yes Father. Now he loves it. We both do.”

“When was the last time you did this together?”

“Uhmmm, just before I came here.”

Malone frowned.

“As recently as that. And did you enjoy it?”

“Yes Father. Very much. He’s really good at it, and I love the taste of his dick. Also his sperm.”

“Oh, he is at least old enough to produce sperm?”

“Father! Of course he is. He’s not a little kid!” Angelo said indignantly.

“Hmmm, well I hope you brushed your teeth before coming here.”

“No Father.”

Malone smiled as he thought about the taste of young spunk still in this boy’s mouth.

“Did you do anything else with your brother?”

Malone heard Angelo taking a long and breath in.

“Yes Father.”

“What else?”

Angelo said a single word.


“You had sex with your younger brother?”

“Yes Father.”

“And who uh, penetrated whom?”

“We take it in turns Father.”

Now it was Malone’s turn to pause for an uncomfortably long time.


“This is very serious indeed Angelo,” Malone said in a grave tone.

Angelo swallowed as panic welled up in his stomach. Father Malone has used his name. How did he know? He thought this was anonymous.

“I think that this is way beyond simply doing acts of contrition. What you have done is criminal, and I’m obligated by law to inform the police.”

“What? But, I thought this was confidential. I was trying to make it right!”

“That’s as may be son, but I’m going to have to let the police know that you and your brother have sodomised each other.”

“But… but… No! Please don’t do that Father!”

“I’ll have to start with your parents. I’ll give them a call before I get the police involved. I imagine your mother will be mortified, and I can’t even imagine your father’s reaction Angelo. I expect Taylor will have to be taken into care, and you.. well, I’m pretty sure that you’ll have to go to prison for a few years at the very least.”

Malone laid it on thick.

“What?! But why. Why are you doing this Father Malone? I trusted you.”

“I can’t break the law son. I’m sorry son.”

“Please Father, this will ruin my whole life. I’ll do anything. Just don’t tell anyone.”

Malone could hear Angelo’s voice cracking with emotion as he spoke.


“Yes, anything you want. I’ll do any penance or act of contrition. Just don’t tell anyone pleeeease.”

His voice was pitiful.

“Okay, well first I’m going to need to check something. Stand up next to the window.”

Angelo saw a glimmer of hope and he stood immediately. The confessional box was small; just 8 feet wide by 4, with a simple wooden seat built into the back wall and a divider that partitioned it into two halves. On the right-hand side of whomever was seated offering confession, there was a head-height hole cut into the wall measuring 18 inches wide and high. The hole was covered with an ornate wooden filigree, that had small holes throughout the pattern. The design was intended to provide privacy, but if you stood close, you could see the priest within, seated on his side of the box.

Below that was a second larger hole cut a little lower than waist height.  A red curtain on the priest’s side was drawn across it.


Angelo stood next to the windows.

“Good,” Father Malone murmured checking the camera feed on his phone to confirm that there was nobody in the church. “Now push your trousers and underwear down. I need to check you out.”

“But then you’d be able to see my junk!” Angelo said.

“That’s the idea Angelo. Come on, don’t tell me you’re shy? After all, you have no problem letting Taylor see it.”

“That’s different!” Angelo protested. “He’s my…”

The sentence trailed off, as he realised that he was about to re-confess his crime. In a quieter voice he continued.

“Why do you need to check me out?”

“Leave that to me Angelo, now you can do what I say without question from this point on, or you can explain to the police what you’ve been doing with your brother. I’m pretty sure your prison cell mate would be more than happy to put his penis in your bottom – whether you want it or not, and I’m certain it will be a good deal larger than Taylor’s.”

The idea of being publicly shamed was bad enough, but visions of getting ass-raped by some neanderthal bubba was more than enough to put Angelo over the top. He undid his black leather belt, and unzipped his black trousers. He was still wearing his school uniform; black synthetic fabric trousers, a very pale grey shirt, and a crimson sleeveless pullover bearing the badge of St Augustine’s.


As he was unbuttoning, the curtain covering the lower window drew back, leaving a clear opening. Malone looked through. The boy wore underwear with a wide black elasticated waistband. They were probably a designer brand. The priest waited to see if the waistband was attached to boxers or briefs. Taylor unzipped his fly, and to Malone’s pleasure, the boy wore briefs; sexy dark grey briefs, with two seams; one on either side of the boy’s genitals, forming a shaped pouch designed to present his assets in the most favourable manner.

“Expensive underwear,” Malone commented.

“I spent my summer job money on them. They cost forty dollars a pair.”

“They look good on you. Why don’t you push them down so I can see what they’re hiding?”

Angelo felt nervous, but his pushed his briefs down a foot so that Malone could see his genitals.

Malone stared in silence enjoying the view for so long that Angelo thought the man was frozen or paralyzed.


“Yes Angelo?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes Angelo, I’m just fine thank you. You’re nicely put together. Not too big, not too small. How big does it get when you’re hard?”

“I, uh, about five and a half; five inches.”

“That’s a fair size.”

Angelo watched as Malone reached through the hole and cupped his genitals.

“Nice testicles too. They’re a liability if they hang too low. A boy I used to know in high school had low testicles and they were forever getting hit. Spent half his life in the nurse’s office doubled over in pain.”


He fondled Angelo’s testicles.

“Father, what are you doing?!”

“I already told you; I need to check you out. You’re clearly highly sexed. I want to examine you.”


Angelo knew all too well about the child sex scandals that had plagued the Catholic priesthood, but Father Patrick was beyond reproach in his eyes, and in any case, he was not a child. Besides, it wasn’t as though he had any choice whatsoever. This was far preferable to the public humiliation that would undoubtedly follow if it was revealed that he’d been fucking his brother.


Malone rolled the boy’s testicles one after the other between his fingertips, feeling their soft outline. He knew that he held Angelo’s entire future in his hands. Likely, the fooling around with Taylor was just a phase that he would move on from, then he’d look for a girl to get serious with, and then he would eventually settle down to raise a family. With two quick squeezes, Malone knew he could erase that version of the future, condemning Angelo instead, to a life of shame, hormone injections, and likely no children. But that was not the priest’s objective. He had no desire to harm the boy. Quite the opposite. Angelo was one of the many teenagers in his church that had attracted Malone’s attention. He got to see more of them on the annual camping trips his hosted. He subtly encouraged them to swim in their underwear, taking them on long hot hikes without swimwear, that culminated by lakes or rivers. But the majority of boys, he simply admired from afar. Angelo was the fourth boy that he had managed to safely manoeuvre into a position where he could enjoy a more hands-on relationship, and he planned to savour it.

“Perfect balls,” he murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“Your testicles. They’re perfect. Exactly the correct oval shape; exactly the correct size. I’d estimate 25 and 16 millilitres. Did you know that your left testicle is smaller than the right?”

“Is it? Is that bad?”

“Yes it is and no it’s not bad; it’s perfectly natural. Your right is actually at the upper end of the size scale, and your left is precisely average.”

Despite the strangeness of the situation, Angelo was nevertheless relieved to hear that his nuts were normal.


Father Malone released Angelo’s testicles and lifted the boy’s limp penis between his thumb and index finger. It curled flaccidly over his thumb.

“Circumcised,” he said, stating the obvious. “Are you glad of that or would you prefer to be uncut?”

“Never thought about it before now Father. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

Malone stroked his thumb gently back and forth against the underside of the glans. Angelo moved his hips away.

“What’s wrong?” Malone asked.

“It’s sensitive Father.”

“Of course. That’s how God designed it. To make sex pleasurable.”


His hand had moved with Angelo’s cock, and he continued stroking. The teenager’s cock rapidly thickened. Within just 20 seconds he was hard. In 30, achingly so.

“You’ve got a fast trigger,” the priest commented.

“Yes Father. Sorry Father.”

“You have nothing apologise for. It’s how God made you. Teenagers are always quick off the mark, but you’re really fast. Maybe God knew that you would not always have a lot of time for foreplay huh Angelo?”

He chuckled.

“I don’t know Father. Maybe.”

“Do you like foreplay Angelo?”

“I’ve never been with a girl Father,” Angelo answered sheepishly.

“What about with your brother?”

“Um, I guess sometimes we uh, lick each other a bit before we start sucking.”

“What about kissing?”

“No way, that would be gay!”

Malone smiled.

“You don’t think that allowing your brother to have intercourse with your behind might be a little bit  gay?”

“No. We just do it for the nut. ‘Cause it feels good.”

He’d given up trying to use medical terminology.

“What about fantasising over your older brother’s erect penis as you masturbate?” the priest asked.

Angelo stopped and thought about the proposition.

“Oh. Well, I guess that might be a little bit gay. But I’m still only thinking about my dick really.”

“If you say so Angelo. Look, I don’t care what people tell you; I don’t care what the church says, there’s nothing wrong with being gay. Whatever you are Angelo, it’s how God made you.”

Angelo was stunned. This bordered on blasphemy, yet it made complete sense to him.


Father Malone gripped Angelo’s erect dick in his fist through the hole, his hand holding the penis in the opposite grip to the way Angelo would have gripped it. Angelo’s cock pointed up the man’s wrist.

Malone started to pump it slowly.

“That’s a decent piece of meat you have there Angelo. Quite a nice thickness to it.”

He continued tugging, and Angelo looked down at his hand. He wanted to ask what the man was doing, but the answer was plain as day. Instead, he asked a different question.

“Father why are you doing this?”

“I want to test your sexual response,” Malone said. “I want to see how quickly you react to stimulation.”

Malone kept tugging, and Angelo started to thrust with each pull. Soon he was making gentle moaning sighs in time with Malone’s slow fist. Malone reached beneath with his other hand and resumed his groping of the teenager’s testicles. Angelo felt as though he was trapped in the priest’s hand: not physically prevented from escaping, rather he was held by his own libido. This was unimaginably weird, deviant maybe, but was it any worse than what he did with his own brother? And Angelo couldn’t deny his own body’s response. Malone was reading his reactions, slowing his pace when he sensed Angelo was about to erupt. On a couple of occasions, he even gave the boy’s soft testicles a firm squeeze to short-circuit, then reset his imminent orgasm.


Looking through the upper window, Angelo could just about make out the priest’s body. The front of his black frock showed a pronounced bulge.

“Father, do you have a boner too?”

“Yes, I must confess, I do. Even though this is the lord’s work, my own body cannot help but respond to the presence of a heated young man. Sexual energy is like electricity Angelo. It quickly jumps like a spark to everyone in its presence.”

“Are you… are you horny?” Angelo asked.

“Yes, I most certainly am. You’re a very virile young man.”


As they spoke, Father Malone continued to edge the teenager, and now Angelo started to tremble, his body desperate for completion.


“Yes Angelo.”

“I really need to cum.”

“Do you?”

“Yes Father.”

“Would you like to?”

Angelo thought about it for a few seconds.

“Yes Father.”


Malone started jiggling his testicles rapidly, and pumping the boy’s straining cock as fast as the face-to-face position would allow. Angelo thrust towards him aggressively now, urging him to let him do what his body needed to do. Suddenly, he was shooting. A thick rope of cum that passed by Father Malone’s fist, splattering on the front of his cassock. It was followed by another and another and another and another. Eight gargantuan squirts that formed a Jackson Pollock cum painting made of splattered boy jizz down the front of Malone’s black wool garment. Angelo grunted, his tight vocal chords expressing his enthusiasm and ecstasy as he was granted release.

Malone continued pumping long after the semen slowed to a dribble and then stopped altogether, and then, twenty seconds after the last dribble, Angelo stopped his strident, intermittent thrusting.


In the near silence, Malone could hear the boy breathing heavily from the exertion.

“Did you enjoy that Angelo?”

Angelo’s response was understated.


The priest smiled.

“I’m starting to understand the bigger picture now. Now why don’t you push your trousers and underwear lower, then turn and press your bottom against the hole.”

“My bottom Father?”

“Yes, my ‘investigation’ is not yet complete. I think I need to experience your body as your brother does to fully comprehend what is going on.”

“Father, I don’t… Are you saying you want to f…”

“Turn around Angelo.”

Angelo did as he was told, pushing his bare bottom through the hole. Malone looked down at the soft globes protruding through the hole. Angelo had a near-smooth, boyish face, but a surprisingly hairy ass. It was almost as though he was 5 years younger above the waist than below it.

“Push your bottom through as far as it will go,” the priest commanded.

Angelo felt ridiculous pushing his bottom through the hole, but he knew he was in no position to refuse. He pushed back until his bottom could go no further. Even his cock was now mostly on Father Malone’s side of the partition.

Malone pulled the meat downwards. It was still rigid, and when he released it, it pressed against the wooden wall, trying to return to a more comfortable horizontal position. The glans left streaks on the bare, unvarnished wood; snail trails of sticky boy juice.


Angelo felt the priest spreading his ass-cheeks.

“You need lube,” Angelo said. “Liquid soap or something. You can’t do it dry.”

He felt a finger smearing something against his hole.

“I’m not going in dry. You squirted enough juice here to lubricate ten assholes.”

“Father!” Angelo said, shocked by the man’s crude language.

“I’m sure my language didn’t really offend you did it Angelo? Not after what you and Taylor have been up to together.”

Angelo thought briefly. The man was right. It was ridiculous for him to take offence at a word when he and his brother had been 69ing each other and more.

“Sorry Father Malone. I was just shocked that’s aaAAAH!”

His comment was cut off as Malone unceremoniously thrust a thick finger into his hole.

“Slower, slower!” the teenager begged.

“Your hole is still tight. Your brother must not have a very thick penis.”

“Nah, not very thick. Not as thick as mine.”

He felt the man smearing his own jizz around the entrance to his hole and inside.


The priest slowly pushed his finger in as far as it could go, noting with amusement, that Angelo gave a little shiver as the second knuckle bumped past the ring of his sensitive sphincter.

Malone pushed his finger in and out slowly, giving Angelo time to get used to it. As he did so, he saw that the kid’s cock was not getting any softer. In fact, a single large bead of pearly, sticky semen had formed at the eye of the urethra. The priest caught it with his finger tip and smeared it across the glans, before stroking the back where the fraenulum bisected the two halves. He heard Angelo let out a soft “Oooh” sigh.

The teenager had a beautiful glans. It was puffy-looking, with a concave curve on top just behind the flared rim, moving up to a flawless domed tip. The flared corona seemed designed with the express purpose of maximising Angelo’s pleasure on the reverse stroke, as it dragged against against the walls of whatever hot hole he buried it in.

“I see your problem now Angelo,” the priest said.

“What problem Father?”

“Your lustfulness. Your penis is too well designed. It’s the head shape. It drives you crazy in both directions.”

Father Malone ran his finger firmly around the rear of Angelo’s corona, then over the dome. He heard Angelo let out a series of trembling breaths.

“See what I mean?”

“Y… yes Father, I think I do.”

“It’s really not your fault that you’re constantly horny.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s a gift from God. A gift to both of us.”


Malone quicken the pace of his finger, firmly banging Angelo’s hole for a couple of minutes. Then he slowed the pace and added a second finger, changing his action to a twisting motion that would widen the hole. Then he stopped and withdrew his fingers. Angelo waited for five seconds, ten, fifteen; then he felt the warm head of his priest’s cock against his hole.

Malone was uncircumcised, with a long, thick foreskin. He drew it back by pulling down on the shaft with his fist, then he placed the head against the hairy, puckered hole in front of him. He pushed slowly but firmly.

Angelo was shocked at its girth.

“You’re so big,” he said, as though he was auditioning for a cheap porno movie. “It feels like a plum.”

“Nine inches,” Father Malone replied. “It’s all part of God’s sense of humour that he would give me the penis of a stallion, and then a calling where I never get to use it. I live in hope that one day, he will change my calling.”


“You’re not the only person who ever gets lustful Angelo.”

“Oh,” the boy responded, surprised at the admission.


Malone pushed, forcing Angelo’s ring to open for him.

“It’s too big, it’s too big!” Angelo said panickily.

“It’ll go. Give it time.”

“No, no it won’t Father!”

“Trust me,” the priest cooed.

And then trust was not required as his thick cock slipped past Angelo’s gatekeeper, and into the hot hole within. The priest pushed slowly all the way in, and came to rest with his stomach pressed against Angelo’s hairy ass-cheeks. Angelo breathed fast like a birthing woman controlling her pain.

Malone reassured him.

“The pain will soon go. Just keep breathing.”

He heard the sound of the young man continuing to do so, and when Angelo’s breaths started to slow, Malone slowly pulled out, before repeatedly pressing back in again, at every stroke, he buried his full nine inches as deep as he could. To him, Angelo may be free to go home and mess around with his brother, or to go out and fuck as many girls as he wanted, but from today, he’d always be the guy that had taken nine inches of priest meat as well. Father Malone felt almost as though he was branding the kid with his mark.


With a smile, he increased his pace.

“Oooh Father!”

Angelo pulled away from Malone’s cock and withdrew his ass from the window.

“What’s wrong Angelo?”

“You’re going too fast. It’s too big.”

“Oh, come on Angelo, man up. Once it’s in, the hard part is done.”

“It’s just…”

The priest cut him off tersely.

“There’s no ‘just.’ Now get your ass back through that hole right this second!”

A few seconds later, Angelo’s hairy ass timidly pushed back through the hole. Malone grinned and tugged the kid’s cock back between his legs again. Then he re-inserted his own hard penis into the wet hole and began to fuck the kid in earnest.


After many sex-free years, it didn’t take long for the priest to climax. As he got close, his thrusting took on a rhythm that could only be described as “savage.” Malone slammed forwards on every stroke as though punishing the boy for his freedom, but in fact, he bore Angelo no ill will whatsoever – far from it. The man’s savagery was a mixture of pent-up lust, and a subconscious desire to dominate the boy utterly; to make it clear to the teenager that Malone was the alpha, and whatever he decided upon was what would happen. His large testicles swung back-and-forth, slapping audibly against Angelo’s balls with every forwards stroke. They would BOTH have aching nuts for the next few days as a result, but right now, Malone was almost oblivious to the discomfort, and what he was aware of, only provided a frisson that added to his pleasure.

“Push back against me!” he commanded.

Angelo complied, pressing his asshole back in time with the strokes to increase Father Malone’s pleasure. It was something he’d made his brother do on many occasions, but now HE was the compliant beta.


All-too-soon, the experience drew to a close. Malone could feel the cum pouring from his cock. He’d always been a man who came copiously, but he’d not masturbated in weeks, and with such a lust-inducing partner to arouse him, he came like a hose-pipe spraying a thirsty garden. Angelo felt the cool fluid pumping deep inside him.

Father Malone poured half a Coke can’s worth of stored semen into the teenager, filling his hole with thick priest cream. Malone could feel it sloshing around the end of his cock.

When he was finally spent, Father Malone collapsed, exhausted against the filigree window, his face resting sidewards on the ornate cut-out wood, and his hard cock still buried in the boy’s ass. He wasn’t an old man, but he had never fucked that hard in his life, and now he needed a minute to recover.

He could feel Angelo’s hole, still tightly wrapped around his thick cock, and the head of his cock pressed tightly against the boy’s internal organs.

He lay, resting for minute as he got his breath back.

A timid voice came from the other side, right by his ear.

“Father Malone, are you done?”

“Not yet son. You’ve got a beautiful hole. I want to enjoy it just a little longer.”

“Oh. Are we going to go to hell Father?”

“Hell? That’s just a fairy story the church made up to scare people into obedience. Only heaven is real, and I just went there.”

It was cheesy as all fuck, but it was how Malone sincerely felt in that moment.

“It feels so great with my cock buried in your asshole son. I wish I could stay here all night.”

“Yes Father.”


Eventually, Malone got the energy to push off the wall. He really could have spent the night with his cock buried in the teenager’s asshole. For his part, Angelo felt enormously stretched and full, but the feeling was diminishing.

Father Patrick Malone pulled away, and his softening penis stretched as he withdrew it from the boy’s tight hole. The head made an audible “pop” as it exited. A trickle of spunk followed it.

“You’re going to have wet pants on the way home son.”

“Do you have something I can dry off with?”

“Not to hand, sorry Angelo,” Father Malone lied.

For some reason it gave him a perverse pleasure to know that the boy would have to walk home with the evidence of their coupling seeping through his trousers and making a dark stain. It would be like an advert that he was taken. The human equivalent of an animal marking its property.


Malone stepped back, filming Angelo’s asshole and cock on his phone and taking in the view for one last time before the boy got dressed and left.

The boy’s cock was still hard as steel; pointing straight at the floor. To his delight, there was a wet trail down the wall and a puddle of cum on the floor.

“You came,” he stated as a matter of fact.

“Yes Father.”

“You enjoyed it?”

Angelo hesitated before replying.

“Yes Father.”

“I don’t think there can be any doubt then…” the priest said, as once again, he stroked the back of Angelo’s glans, eliciting immediate moans of pleasure.

The boy started grinding his ass, as though to ask for faster strokes of his helmet.

“What Father?” Angelo asked in a strained voice.

“You ARE gay.”

“Maybe bisexual?” Angelo offered.

“Have you ever thought about a girl while you jacked it?”

“No Father.”

Malone didn’t need to say any more, instead he lightly pumped the teenager’s hard shaft with the fingers of his other hand, leaving it pressed against the wall, while he continued to polish the head. With no warning, thick boy-cream started to spurt from the head, hitting the floor in four large splats. Angelo moaned in pleasure as Father Malone continued working on his cock until it stopped spitting.

“Three times. No wonder you’re always horny.”

“Four,” Angelo corrected.

“You squirted twice while I was fucking you?”

“Yes Father.”

“Your hole won’t be much fun for your brother for a few days. I think I might have ruined his fun for a little while, but I’m sure you can still suck each other.”

“Won’t that be a sin Father?”

“I think,” Father Malone said slowly, “that God has given you a special gift, and the imagination and desire to enjoy it. I think you should thank him by doing so as often as you can, don’t you agree Angelo?”

“Yes Father,” Angelo replied gratefully. “May I go now?”

“Yes Angelo, but I want you to return the same time next week. I’d like you to demonstrate your oral technique on me, and then I can return the favour, and maybe teach you some new tricks.”

Angelo smiled to himself as he pulled his trousers up his wet legs.

“Yes Father.”

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